


Chocolate Malts and B-Pictures

by RebeccaDopplemeyer



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 1950's AU, F/F, Fluff, Skimmons Week, diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebeccaDopplemeyer/pseuds/RebeccaDopplemeyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1950's AU:  Skye works as a waitress at a highway-side diner that just became the favorite lunch spot for Jemma Simmons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolate Malts and B-Pictures

The Shield Street Diner saw a lot of visitors from all over the country, and anyone who stopped in from a long road trip found a comfortable booth and a hot cup of coffee. In fact, it was the last place you could get a decent ham and cheese sandwich on rye this side of the desert, and lots of folks from the highway that ran alongside it stopped in for just that. 

“I could sure go for a slice of berry pie,” the trucker said as he put down the menu.

“Just came out of the oven,” Skye said, scribbling it down on her notebook before she put it in her apron.

“Order up,” the manager, Melinda May, said as she rang the metal bell in the kitchen window. “And Skye? The boss wants to see you.”

Skye delivered the food and then entered the owner’s office with a knock on the door. “What’s the story, Daddy-O?”

Phil Coulson frowned as he snuffed out his cigarette in the ash tray. “I thought I asked you not to call me that?”

“Could be,” Skye smiled. 

“Anyway, I was hoping you’d go to full time. The government, military, somebody has just opened up a facility in the desert about 5 miles west of here. I expect business will pick up.”

“You’re the boss,” Skye said cheerily. “I’ll start working the dinner shift, too.”

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, Skye.” Phil said, adjusting his horn rimmed glasses, and lit another cigarette.

“You’d probably have more hair,” Skye said, winking as she left.

“There she is,” Skye heard from the lunch counter, and saw Antoine’s wide smile. “I was worried old Grant was going to have to serve me,” Antoine said, winking at Ward, who was behind the line.

Antoine was Skye’s favorite regular -- always greeted her with a big grin and a good sense of humor, and stood up for her if any of the boys passing through got fresh with her.

“I guess I’ve saved you from a terrible fate. The usual?” 

Antoine nodded. “Oh, I kid about Grant. He’s a good fella,” he said, loud enough for Ward to hear. Then he lowered his voice “And I don’t know if you noticed this, Skye, but he’s got pretty big moon eyes for you. How come you’ve never given him a chance?”

“Ward? That’d be like dating my brother, Antoine! And besides, he’s not exactly my type.”

“That’s what I’m saying, Skye,” Antoine said, grinning jokingly. “Lot of good looking cats around here, if you haven’t noticed. But nobody seems to be your type.”

Skye shrugged. “I guess I’m on the lookout for someone special.” 

“Skye?” Melinda said from behind the line. “You’ve got a table.”

Skye turned to see a young brunette sitting in the corner booth, looking over the menu.

“Afternoon. I’m Skye -- what can I get for you?”

As the brunette turned toward her, dark eyes met hers, and suddenly Skye’s stomach was all butterflies. 

“Could I get the onion rings and a chocolate malt, please?”

Skye nodded, but didn’t say anything, staring at Jemma as her brain tried to function.

“Do you...?” Jemma started.

“Your food! Yes. Uh, I’ll -- I’ll get it.” Skye shook herself out of her reverie and went back to the counter to put in Jemma’s order. 

“Since when do you get tongue tied?” Melinda asked, the smallest smile playing on her lips. 

“I don’t. I’m not. Just… mind your own business,” Skye said, still trying to recover her composure.

Skye took a deep breath, and took Jemma’s food over. 

“So, are you passing through, or new in town?” Skye asked as she set the food down, hoping for the latter.

“New in town, I’m afraid. I work at the research center.” Jemma took a sip of her malt. “But I expect you’ll be seeing a lot more of me,” Jemma said, and smiled.

* * * 

Over the next few weeks Jemma came in almost every day for lunch, and tried different things on the menu -- though she ordered a malt every time. The diner was never that busy, and when Skye made time to talk to Jemma, she could always count on good conversation. She learned all about her life in England; how she had been the only woman admitted to her program in biochemistry; how her parents had died in the London bombings, leaving her parentless, just like Skye. 

Sometimes she brought her colleague, Fitz, with her, but he usually brought his work with him. He’d order a fried egg sandwich and a root beer from the soda fountain, barely looking from some complicated-looking diagram on a wide sheet of paper. Jemma tried to get Fitz to socialize like a normal person, but he was always more concerned with his work, and even Skye couldn’t engage him in conversation. The only person he seemed to discard his work for was Antoine, who broke his focus with a big grin, which turned Fitz an embarrassing shade of pink. It became a private joke between Skye and Jemma, taking bets on how stammery Fitz would get when Antoine said hello to him.

* * * 

One day, before lunch, Skye was talking to Melinda about something funny that Jemma had said when Antoine came in. 

“It’s Monday,” Antoine said to Melinda pointedly. “Still nothing yet?”

“No,” Melinda said exasperatedly. “What, you wanna do this now? In front of...” Melinda cocked an eyebrow.

Skye looked between both of them. What was happening?

“Hey, the girl needs some encouragement. And I need that bread you owe me.”

“Fine,” Melinda scowled, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a dollar and handing it to Antoine. “You win.”

“What is…?” Skye started.

“We had a bet about how long it would take you to ask out the scientist. C’mon, Skye, what are you waiting for?”

“Ask out _Jemma_?” Skye ran a hand over her disbelieving face. “You mean, like, on a date?”

“Yeah, dummy, you’re totally snowed! She’s all you ever talk about. And I see the way she looks at you when you’re working.”

“It’s true,” Melinda said. 

“C’mon, Skye,” Grant said as he popped into the kitchen window. “Get to it already. You’re keeping everybody in suspense, dolly.”

Skye held up a hand. “Wait, has _everyone_ been talking about this?!”

“Yes!” Antoine, Grant, and Melinda said at once.

The office door opened, and Phil leaned out, holding a glass of brandy in one hand. “For goodness’s sake, Skye, my employees have to get back to work. Ask her out already!”

Skye exhaled, resigned, and turned to the chrome finish on the wall beside her, using it as a mirror, and straightened the bow in her hair. She swallowed. “Here goes nothin’.”

Antoine cleared his throat.

Jemma had just entered, and as Skye turned around they locked eyes. 

“Oh. Hello, Skye.”

* * * 

Jemma had said yes immediately, and Phil had lent Skye his car to pick her up. (“Don’t hot rod in this. I know it’s not much to look at, but I’ve gotta keep it running until I can buy myself that brand new Chevy.”)

Skye kept the steering wheel in a death grip, half because she didn’t drive that much, and half because she was so nervous about saying something square to Jemma.

“I know the picture sounds kind of corny, I’m sorry if it’s not good,” Skye said apologetically.

“Oh no, I’m excited! We don’t have drive in movie theaters in England.”

Skye got them some popcorn and drinks and put the speaker onto the side window of the car as the opening titles came on.

* * *

“Now this part I have to protest,” Jemma said, gesticulating with a handful of popcorn toward the screen. “Gigantic mutated ants simply couldn’t survive if they were that size! Their legs would collapse -- the ratio of limbs to thorax is dependent upon their weight.”

“Yeah?” Skye said, grinning as she always did when Jemma’s eyes lit up with the excitement of science.

“And nuclear testing doesn’t result in gigantism, anyway,” Jemma said, rolling her eyes. “In fact, it doesn’t result in _any_ mutation immediately unless those warheads were filled with gamma radiation.”

She turned to Skye, who was watching Jemma intently, the smile still on her face.

“What? Oh dear -- I’ve gone off on a science rant, and now I’ve ruined our… haven’t I?” Jemma twisted away from Skye in her seat.

“No!” Skye said, reaching out to turn Jemma back around, and bring her closer. “I love your science rants. It’s one of the things about you that’s endearing, and really… cute.”

“Oh,” Jemma said quietly, leaning over, biting her bottom lip gently, which drew Skye’s eyes there.

“Jemma?” Skye said, still staring at Jemma’s lips, closing the distance between them.

“Yes Skye?” Jemma said breathlessly.

Skye reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Jemma’s ear, and cupped the back of her head. “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t get to see the rest of the picture.”

Jemma smiled. “I don’t mind at all. This is much, much better,” she said, as their lips met for the first time.


End file.
